Jewel of Palanthas
by Lucreace
Summary: When Crysania recieved a strange package, it sets off a chain of events that will shape the course of not only her future but the future of the world itself. Very AU, summary is kinda rubbish as well! Forgive me this!
1. Opportunities

**OK, so here's the deal. I am writing this using a set of 100 prompts, each of which are going to be the chapter titles. I am also going to use the same list for a Dragonlance fanfiction to see where they both go. An ambitious project perhaps but I want to give it a try. Each chapter will be approx. 500 words unless the story (or reviewers) demand they be longer. I hope you enjoy reading them!**

 **Lu.**

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This had not been Hermione's idea of a good time. Her appointment at the Auror office had been swift and without question. She was a hero after all and they knew what she was capable of. With her head held high, she had walked into the office after her summons, knowing they were going to have some sort of special assignment for her. Likely she was going to be put in the field to try and track down some of the missing Death Eaters. Sort of like cleaning up after the party, she'd been prepared for all of that. Mentally and physically at least.

What she had not expected was to be assigned to someone else. As a sort of apprentice. She had not expected to be told that she was going undercover with her mentor and that the war they had fought was far from over. Sitting at her desk, she starred down at the letter that explained all this. They hadn't even had the guts to tell her in person, instead sending a note merely to inform her of this.

They'd been bloody crafty as well! The deadline for complaints and other issues had been the day before, the day they had sent the letter. To complain now would make her look tardy and that would tarnish her reputation. One that she had worked hard to keep while she had been at Hogwarts, she would be damned if that was going to change now!

As she made her way to the central office, she tried to swallow her ire. She hoped that her mentor would be someone she would be able to relate to. Someone who would teach her something decent at least, perhaps someone like Remus, or Moody, they would be great to work alongside and she knew she would learn a lot from them. In fact, the idea was warming in her mind as she walked along the corridor. By the time she reached the door, her smile was back in place and she was sure this was going to be a good thing.

All her cheer drained from her when she opened the door and stepped inside. Sat in the chair on the other side of the desk was her erstwhile professor. The lank, black hair of Severus Snape had not changed; neither had the hooked nose or the intense glare of derision either. Nor had the way her stomach clenched as he gazed at her, "Believe me Granger, I am about as happy with this as you are," he said. The colour drained from her face and she shook her head swiftly.

"I don't suppose there is any changing it?" she asked.  
"None. I already tried," he drawled. Great. So he had that much confidence in her he'd already tried to get rid of her. She glanced down at her hands and let her shoulders sag.

"I suppose we're in for a long few months then," she muttered.

"I suppose I am," he replied. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, so much for having a great time learning. She guessed there was nothing left to do but suck it up and get on with it!


	2. Dark

The conversation with Elistan had gone the way she thought it would. He'd suggested that there was no harm in speaking with the Archmage to find out what it was that he wanted. So it was that she found herself at the entrance to the Shoikan Grove; the dread wood that surrounded the Tower of High Sorcery. Facing it, even with the night-jewel in her hand, set her heart pounding; the bright Palanthian sun had been robbed of warmth as she had approached the wood. The buildings surrounding the Grove had fallen in to disrepair, no one was brave enough it seemed to venture that close, even the birds had ceased their song.

A cold shiver ripped down her spine and Crysania drew in a sharp breath. A quick, silent prayer to Paladine and she took a step forward. The fear was crushing, a permeable, tangible thing that she could almost reach out and touch. Trembling, she refused to give in to it; at the end of this road was someone who needed her salvation. If she gave up and left, she would be giving up on her quest too. Holding the jewel aloft, she sucked in a deep breath and forced one foot up. Placing it in front of her, she made the other one join it. Another followed, then another. It suddenly seemed a lot easier and although the pervasive threat of danger still tainted the air, she found it was no longer as crippling as it had been.

Then something snagged her foot, stumbling forward she landed on her knees. Glancing around, she couldn't see anything reaching for her but then again, the danger of the Grove was not always seen. An eerie laugh drifted passed her on the wind and she scrambled to her feet. A new determination flowed through her and she began to once more make her way slowly through the broken wood. Icy air cut through the thin cloak she wore and by the time she could see the end of the road, she was shivering.

Standing there, leaning heavily on a six foot wooden staff with a crystal on the end of it, was a slender figure draped in heavy black robes. Crysania wasn't entirely sure what the Archmage's most prominent feature was, however, when her gaze fell on his glittering golden eyes with the oddly shaped pupils, she knew she had found it. Her throat dried out all of a sudden, and for some reason, her tongue felt too big for her mouth. Clearing her throat, she folded her arms over her chest and tried not to feel like she was some sort of bug he was contemplating.

"I made it through the Grove," she said. The moment she said it, she felt stupid and she flushed.

"So it would seem, although not completely unscathed," he said pointing at the dust on her knees. Brushing it off quickly, she straightened and flicked black hair from her face, she refused to be intimidated by this frail, sickly looking man.

"My name is Crysania Tarinius, I believe you sent for me?" she said extending her hand politely. He took it in his and shook it, the heat coming from his golden skin was unnatural and she had to force herself to not recoil from the grip.

"Raistlin Majere, come this way, we have much to discuss," he replied. Releasing her hand, he turned to the open door of the dark tower and entered. After swallowing, she followed him into the gloom, not entirely sure what she was getting herself in for.


	3. Judgement

He had led her up several flights of stairs into a study. Ensuring that she was settled, he had made them both a cup of tea before sitting opposite her. Taking her time to look around the room, she found that it was everything that an Archmage's study should be. The large dragon skull that was suspended from the ceiling was a touch excessive, however the shelves of books were in keeping with her expectations, as were the jars of… things that he had on one wall. The room certainly had a lived in feeling to it, even if it wasn't entirely welcoming.

"How do you find it?" he asked as she examined the place.

"Creepy," she replied without thinking. The rasping noise that came from him startled her at first, until she realised that he was laughing.

"I rather suppose it is," he said. She glanced down at the mug in her hands and swallowed, unsure how to broach the next part of the conversation. When she thought about it, she wanted to get it over and get out of there as quickly as she could. So much for Paladine's strength, she thought to herself. It certainly wasn't the attitude to have if she was going to help this man find redemption. She swallowed again and looked up into his odd eyes.

"What is it I can help you with?" she asked.

"Straight to the point Revered Daughter?" he said using her title for the first time, "I don't blame you, I would want to be gone as quickly as possible too if I were in your place," he said. She flushed a little at being so easily read but held his gaze.

"Can you blame me? It's not the most settling of places."

"I suppose not," the Archmage said. The trace of amusement danced around his eyes and she got the impression that he was laughing at her. "To business then," he said in his soft voice. With that, he pushed an open book that had been lying unobserved on the low table in front of them. Marked for her to read was a passage. She had seen it before in another book and only gave it a cursory skim before looking back up.

"This is about Paladine's Eye, common knowledge Master Majere, why does this require my attention?" she asked. A slight frown appeared on her brow, she hoped that he was not wasting her time.

"I believe I have found where the Eye is being kept," he said.

"Really?" she asked flatly. This had happened before and she was hardly going to believe it just because he said so. He nodded and handed her another tome, this one was far smaller and far older than the one on the table.

"This was recently recovered by my apprentice," he said as she scanned over the pages. Half way down, she stopped scanning and began reading. It took a while for the message to sink in but when she looked up again her eyes were wide.

"So, what are you proposing?" she asked after a moment. Her heart was hammering in her chest now, adrenaline pumping through her faster than anything. She was forced to place the book on the table lest if fall from her trembling hands.

"That we reclaim it," he said in a whisper. Her mind swam at the very idea; it took a moment for it to sink in. Not once did she question why he, a black robed mage, would want to do so. The thought never even occurred to her as she began to form a plan in her mind.

"We're going to need a few things," she said finally. The smile that played about his thin lips wasn't entirely sincere she noticed, but he nodded.

"That we do lady," he said.


	4. Troubled Thoughts

Crysania looked down at her hands, plump, alabaster skin stretched over the slender fingers and she tried her best to listen to the sermon that Elistan was giving. Her mind kept wondering back to the meeting of the previous day and the proposition the dark mage had made. Part of her deeply wanted to believe what he had said. The discovery of the location of Paladine's eye was almost too good to be true, which is what gave her pause. What if the information was false? What is he was using her for his own ill ends?

She bit the inside of her cheek and dismissed the thought. That may well be the case but what about him? Could she not work on bringing him back to the light on this journey? She'd been waiting for a chance to prove her faith to Paladine and this seemed to be the perfect opportunity. If that was the case, why was she so full of conflicting thoughts? He made her feel odd, like he was looking at a rather interesting bug that needed to be examined and studied. She shuddered a little and drew her attention back to Elistan.

The rest of the sermon passed quickly. She remained seated while everyone else left, until she was alone with her mentor once more. When he looked up and saw her still there, a frown crossed his brow. "What is it?" he asked finally.

"I am conflicted," she said after a moment. When he didn't speak, she continued to explain what it was that bothered her. The kind old cleric moved to her side and place his wizened hand over hers.

"What does your heart tell you?" he asked. His shrewd eyes looked over her and she swallowed.

"I should do this; go on the journey and give what aid I can, but I'm also scared Elistan," she glanced down at her hands again, "I don't know why."

"Fear is the true test of any faith." Elistan said softly, "Without hardship, there is no test."

His words were a comfort to hear and slowly, she nodded, "I think I am going to agree to this," she said after a moment, "I know it will be dangerous but, I need to go." The old cleric nodded and patted her hand with a kindly smile.

"Good. If there is anything you need, you only have to ask."

Crysania nodded, giving him a small smile, "You've done more than enough already, I shall go and write to Raistlin, let him know I agree," she said. The cleric nodded again and she rose. Somehow, the conversation had chased away the last of her doubts and she now felt ready to face the trials ahead. That there would be hardships was not in any doubt; a shiver crept down her spine at the thought of being on the road with the odd, frail mage. She wondered how well he would cope with the rigors of travel. As she returned to her room, she recalled that he had been one of the heroes of the lance; travelling Ansalon had once been a regular occurrence. With this in her mind, she began writing her acceptance letter and thinking about what she would need for the road ahead.


	5. Slow Down

Now that she was ready, the only feeling that pulsed through her blood was excitement. She stood, shifting from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching her hands on the road that lead out of the city. Waiting was something she had never been all that good at and now was no different. The reply she had receive from the mage had told her to meet him at the edge of the Grove two nights hence and yet, here she was at the appointed time and he hadn't shown.

What if it had all been a mistake? Was he having second thoughts? The question flowed around her mind in a circle, refusing to leave her be. She sank down on a crumbling wall to wait a bit longer, already fed up of pacing back and forth while she did so. Her eyes turned to the black marble tower behind her and she shuddered, what was it even like living in such a foreboding place? She didn't even want to know. She'd heard the stories, they'd all heard the stories of what lingered within the shadows, whether they were true or not though, she had no idea.

The tapping of a staff along with the soft rustle of robes turned her head and a wave of relief washed over her. He was just late then. She leapt to her feet and offered the Archmage a bright smile. It slid from her face when it wasn't returned. Was it the light or did that odd skin seem paler than it had before? "Are you ready?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to speak but the only sound that came out was a hissing rasp, followed by a cough. The cough, which started off mild, soon deepened into something far more sinister. Before long, he was doubled over with the hacking. Before she knew what she was doing, she was by his side, a healing spell touching her lips. He jerked away from her, shaking his head but unable to speak through the coughs. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, reduced to watching the mage suffer, not able to lend a hand.

The fit seemed to pass but she did notice that he wiped blood from his lips, it was a while longer before he found the strength to speak, "Do not waste your healing on me, it will have no effect." His voice was a cracked whisper and there was a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" she asked, laying a hand on the crook of his elbow.

He jerked away from her suddenly and a rush of heat flooded her cheeks. "I will be fine," he said tersely. She nodded silently and turned her face away from him.

"Perhaps we should make a start then." When she spoke, her voice was cooler than before. If he noticed her displeasure, he ignored it. He held out a golden hand to her and she frowned.

"Did you think we were going to walk all the way?" he asked. Silently, she took his hand, noticing how slender it was in hers, yet how strong and she nodded. Uttering words in a strange language, he cast the spell that would start them on their journey.


	6. Dead Wrong

She had no idea where he was taking them. Crysania had never travelled the corridors of magic before and it all seemed wonderful. The gloomy colours of the tower and surrounding area bled together, flowing and swirling around them as they chaned location. She wondered where they would end up? Would it be in green fields far from the city? Or would it be in some ancient ruin a little closer? Or perhaps they would appear next to the sea, the cool clean air lapping at their robes as they sought passage on a ship to some far off land. The dark colours faded and were replaced by much brighter ones, the verdant green of glass and… was that brown of a forest? Oh, perhaps they would end up near Qualinost and visit the elves, how exciting; she'd never met any elves before.

The colours seemed to settle and although she had been excited about arriving, it took a moment for her vision to adjust and for her to orientate herself. When she did, a pang of disappointment flooded through her. They were not in a far off land, nor were they next to the sea. The only smell she could detect was that of horse. Grimacing, she realised they were in a stable. "Why are we here?" she asked as she stepped away from the Archmage.

"Like I said, we're not walking all the way there, nor am I able to teleport us right to the location of the Eye, I don't know exactly where it is."

Crysania nodded and followed Raistlin into the stable building itself. Once inside, he sought out one of the hands and quickly began the bargaining that was essential to the trade. Crysania had ridden before but not for any length of time, she made the men aware of this before she walked to the stalls and looked at the placid animals chewing on the hay. Letting out a sigh, she could not have been more wrong. At least they wouldn't have to walk all that far. One of the horses raised its head and stamped its foot, making her jump. Letting out a little squeak, she placed a hand on her chest and willed her heart to be still. Why she was this jumpy, she had no idea. Likely it was just the nerves of travelling abroad with a virtual stranger, yes; that must be it.

Her pale hand gripped the medallion at her throat and she uttered a prayer asking for strength. Strength to go through with this mission and not falter on her steps, she got the feeling she was going to need it. When the men reappeared, it would seem the deal had been struck. Two brown horses were fetched, fully saddled and Raistlin nodded, "When you're ready," he said. Without assistance, she swung into the saddle. She had not forgotten his waspish words earlier and so did not deign to speak further. It seemed to suit him well enough for he did not say a single word, just turned the horses bridle and trotted from the stable. Her horse, eager to keep up with its companion, needed barely a nudge.


	7. Reality

If Crysania had had visions of a pleasant ride through the countryside, conversing about religion and enjoying the scenery, they quickly dissipate leaving behind the stark reality of what they were doing. About half an hour after they had left the city, the wind changed, bringing with it the heavy clouds that portended the start of the rains. The sun was soon locked behind a wall of cloud and looked as though it was going to stay there indefinitely. The wind, changing to blow from the south had a definite chill in it and she drew her white cloak around her a little tighter.

All attempts at conversation with her companion had fallen flat, he was intent on watching everything else around them; as though there would be hobgoblins jumping out of every tree or bush they rode passed. She wondered at that. He was one of the famed Heroes of the Lance after all; did he seriously think there would be beings on the roadside waiting to get them? Perhaps it was this instinct that had kept him alive for so long. Still, if this was how it was going to be, it was going to be a long boring trip.

Crysania decided that looking about was the thing to do and so joined in with the activity. The problem was that the mountain pass was well travelled and there really wasn't all that much to see. There were even other travellers going in the opposite direction, back towards the city. Finally, she gave up on that too and shifted in her saddle, "Where are we heading Raistlin?" she asked when the quiet became too much to bear.

"Our search starts at the foot of the Khalkist mountains," he said. He offered no further embellishment however and so the conversation lapsed once more. Instead she turned her mind over to where they were going and what she could remember about the mountains. The flicker of a memory rushed through her mind, of sitting in the hot schoolroom and looking out the window rather than listening.

"Isn't that where the first dwarfhome was supposed to be?" she asked when it dawned on her.

"Yes." The black robed wizard said with a nod. Was that the glimmer of a smile on his lips? She thought that perhaps it was. She didn't the one blossom on her face however, she kept that impassive. If he was going to be awkward, so was she!

"We can't be searching for that," she said after a moment, "No one has heard anything from that place for hundreds of years."

"And yet, you're riding in the company of the Master of Past and Present," he said. She rolled her eyes at that, his arrogant tone was almost too much to bear. Somehow, she knew that he was right though, this was something to do with his self-proclaimed title, of that much she was sure. Gripping a hold of her medallion, she renewed her supplication for strength and nudged her horse onwards.


End file.
